Fresh Start
by everlovingdeer
Summary: "I'm fine," he assured me instantly like he had grown used to having to tell people that. But he really wasn't fine, I knew that. He'd never needed to tell me that.
1. Fresh Start

What were you supposed to do when you'd finished with school? Honestly, I could count on one hand just how many of my school friends had any idea about what they were going to do with their lives now that we had graduated. Merlin knew I certainly didn't have a clue. Coming home to an England that was still recuperating from the aftereffects of the battle – a year on at that – made it all that much more difficult. With the country trying to gather itself to its previous glory, I just wanted to stay home, especially because my mother hadn't let me return home from Beauxbatons during the holidays in case something happened. For over three years I had been forbidden from coming home, and now I wanted nothing more than to remain within its four walls.

My mother seemed to have other ideas – not that she'd actually say it blatantly. Instead, she was doing the very Slytherin thing and trying to manipulate me with her words into doing what she wanted. She seemed to forget that I took after her – hell, if I'd attended Hogwarts then I'd probably have been sorted into Slytherin myself. But I sat without a word, listening to her as she talked over lunch about how lonely Mrs Malfoy seemed to be lately.

Realising that mother had stopped talking and was watching me for an answer, I tried not to sigh. Spearing a piece of asparagus with my fork, I lowered my eyes to my plate and reluctantly asked, "Well, what about it?"

"It's not like she gets many guests anymore," she started, and I rolled my eyes. Merlin's beard could she be any more obvious?

"Well, why don't you go and visit her theb?"

"You know I'm going out of the country with your father for a holiday." I looked up in time to see her purse her lips, "Why don't _you_ go and visit them? Maybe stay with them for a while?"

"I don't see what having to entertain me will do for her."

"You grew up spending weeks at a time at the Manor," mother pointed out. "You know Narcissa considers you the daughter she never had – she's done so much for you."

"You've done equally as much for Draco – the son _you_ never had. And with that, I think this conversation can come to a close."

Mother sighed, more than a little frustrated that this conversation wasn't going the way she wanted it to. What I didn't understand was why she didn't admit that she didn't want me to stick around home while she was away with father? Why was she spinning this angle of being the caring friend – I mean she _did_ care for Mrs Malfoy, but I doubted her only intentions were for me to help her fiend.

"Listen to me," she started again, wiping the corner of her mouth with a napkin. "She's my best friend, you know that, and sadly she's turned into a shadow of her former self since her husband was locked away in Azkaban and I want to help her however I can. Maybe having another presence in the Manor will help her." With a sigh, I pushed away from the table and prepared to leave when she added, "Draco's the same."

The words – damn them and damn me too – had me stilling in my seat just like mother knew they would. Fiddling with the bracelet on my wrist, I asked quietly, "What about Draco?"

"His mother's worried about him."

"She's _always_ worried about him. There's nothing new about that."

"Narcissa says that he's nothing like he was." But was that really such a bad thing? I certainly didn't think it was all that bad – especially when I remembered just how much of a horror he'd been when we were kids. "She says he doesn't eat properly, he rarely leaves his room and she was the one to suggest it actually."

"Suggest _what_ mother?"

"She wants you to go to the Manor, not just because she missed you but for Draco too."

Leaning back in my seat, I crossed my arms. "When do I leave then? I take it you've already got everything sorted out?"

"Of course, I have; I knew that the moment I told you Draco needed your help that you'd be prepared to leave." Mother met my eyes over the table, sending me a meaningful look. "You've never been able to say no to him."

"I have," I protested quietly. "I haven't seen him since I was fourteen; no matter how many letters he's sent to me."

"You're stubborn," mother acknowledged, with a small smile, "You get that from your father."

"And he says I get it from you," I shot back, reaching out for my glass. "I personally think you're _both_ stubborn – which is why I'm such a terror. I get it from the both of you."

It was precisely why my childhood friendship with Draco had always been so rocky; we were both stubborn only children from pureblood family's, both used to getting our way and Merlin, I'd been surprised that he was more spoiled than I ever was. Of course, I liked to think that I'd grown out of that once I'd started at Beauxbatons, but I didn't think he'd ever had.

In a strange way, we'd gotten close to each other in the way that only stubborn spoiled children could – because there seemed that there just weren't other children around who were like us. But really, was that so strange when the only other children we were exposed to for the first few years of our lives were each other? Of course, Draco soon made other friends and I did the same but looking back on it now, maybe that was the reason we were both so private?

I could still remember, aged seven or eight, my mother and I had travelled to the Manor for the summer when I'd first met Draco's other friends and it had been jarring. I'd never known Draco to have other friends – simply because I'd thought him the sort of person that no one apart from me could put up with. Naturally, as children did as they grew up, we changed and became less and less like one another until eventually, I couldn't bring myself to be around him. It culminated in me ceasing my visits to the manor. The last time I had visited his home had been the summer of my fourth year and I hadn't been since, no matter how many letters he sent me to demand that I showed up to his house. He'd always been a spoilt brat.

"– are you listening to me?"

"Sorry," I apologised instantly, "I guess I zoned out. What were you saying?"

"Friday – you leave Friday."

* * *

When Friday came, I wasn't filled with a sense of dread about returning to a place where I hadn't been in years. Instead, it was a rather odd feeling of coming home which was preposterous because I wasn't coming home. Not at all. I was just returning to a place where I had spent a large part of my childhood. Mother saw me off, waiting for me by the fireplace where I checked over my bags for the last time. She really didn't need to see me off – I was only travelling by floo to the Manor. It wasn't as if I could possibly get lost. But she didn't listen to my protests at all and simply magicked my bags over to the Manor ahead of me.

After a rather stilted, awkward goodbye, I stepped into the fireplace for the short journey to the Manor without giving myself the chance to back out. I hadn't seen the Malfoys in four years, but I had no doubt that I would easily fit back into the mother-daughter-esque relationship that I'd always had with Narcissa Malfoy.

Her son, on the other hand; what would happen when Draco saw me? He'd always been a terror; quick to anger and downright ridiculous when it came to how … possessive he was with his friends. When we were young, I spent a long time revolving around him, trailing after him like a lovesick little girl but I'd long since stopped being that little girl. Goodness knows he wasn't the same boy either.

When I emerged on the other side of the fireplace, I was greeted by a gentle call of my name. Stepping out into the room, my eyes immediately shifted to the older woman who was already waiting for her. The years hadn't stripped her of her elegance or her beauty but no matter how beautiful she was, it didn't hide the grief etched into her features at the long separation from her husband, from the horrors of the war she had taken part in. Merlin, she looked bad.

I smiled, walking towards her and deciding that it was better to just approach her as if I'd never left her life in the first place. The small smile on her face was worth it; the expression lighting up her entire face. Opening her arms out for me, she held me close to her and I returned the hug. It was no secret that Mrs Malfoy had always wanted a daughter, another child but for some reason or other, she had never been blessed with one. Instead, she made do with her best friend's daughter. Not that I complained; Mrs Malfoy always spoiled me just as much as my parents had.

"How have you been?" she asked gently, seemingly reluctant to pull away from me as she stroked the back of my head. "I haven't seen you in years."

"I've missed you," I answered, drawing away from her. Merlin, I really hadn't realised how truthful my words were until I had said them.

"I missed you too," she said softly, eyes roving over my face. "You're stunning."

"Puberty kind of does that," I said a little awkwardly, not knowing how to react to the compliment. "But you're as beautiful as always."

"You're too sweet." Merlin, was a simple conversation all it took to have some life coming back into her features? Because in the space of the five minutes that I'd been here, she really did look much better.

The sound of approaching footsteps had me peering around Mrs Malfoy to spy Draco as he appeared in the doorway. He had eyes only for his mother and I let my own rove over him from head to toe. God, he'd gotten taller – and more handsome, filling out all the sharp angles that made up his face and coming into his lean frame. He'd grown into a man.

But he didn't look his best either. The war had done its part on him; taking a toll on his features. He looked as if he hadn't slept in a while like he spent his every night awake. I'd been away at school during the entire war, my parents hadn't even allowed me back into the country, but I'd heard the horror stories. I'd heard what Draco had gone through and somehow, I wasn't surprised to see the state I had found him in.

"Draco," Narcissa said as she turned her back to me, "put the bags upstairs in the prepared guest room."

"Why don't you get the house elves to do it?" he asked, with mild annoyance.

"Because she asked _you_ to do it Draco," I said with a roll of my eyes, the words slipping out without really meaning to.

His eyes shifted instantly towards me, finally realising that I was here. Surprise settled into his eyes, stepping almost slightly in my direction before he caught himself. Tucking his hands into his pockets, Draco tensed a little, as if he couldn't believe what he was seeing. Not that I'd been surprised; truthfully, I _had_ changed quite a bit. Calling my name quietly, Draco finally walked into the room to stand beside his mother.

"Malfoy," I just said in return, waiting for the surprise to filter out of his eyes. It didn't – not really. His eyes raked over me from head to toe and I forced myself not to shuffle on my feet like that little girl I once was.

"Let me take your bags," he offered, stepping forward to wave his wand at the bags lying beside his fireplace. I tried not to snicker; why was he acting as if he'd been the one to volunteer? I'd clearly heard his mother order him to do it in the first place.

"Thanks," I said with furrowed eyebrows, watching as he walked out of the room and towards the staircase. When I was certain that he couldn't hear me, I cast my eyes towards the Malfoy matriarch who watched our interaction with meaningful eyes. "He's become really strange."

"That's why you're here," she said with a smile, reaching out to squeeze my arm.

* * *

Since arriving at Malfoy Manor, I often found myself wondering just why I had come to the Manor in the first place. Because really, what was I supposed to be doing here? How was I supposed to be helping them 'recover' when the only way they could ever recover and become more like their usual selves was by helping themselves? Sure, I could help them on the road to that, but eventually, it would only really work if they made the effort.

To say that I'd doubted what effect I could possibly have, was a massive understatement because I was just me. But Merlin, there _was_ a difference. Mainly in Mrs Malfoy who was slowly but surely, growing more towards the person she had been when I was younger. Only maybe that was giving myself too much importance? Maybe it was just the effect seeing someone and conversing with someone who wasn't her son – who was rather reclusive. A drastic change to how he'd been when he was younger.

A lot had changed for Mrs Malfoy over the last four years, but one thing that certainly hadn't changed was the love for her flower garden. When I searched back into the far depths of my memories, I realised just how often I saw Narcissa crouched down to hand plant the flowers of her garden as the seasons changed. Of course, there were plenty of magical ways of doing it, but she certainly liked doing it by hand – I didn't.

I didn't like getting the dirt under my nails – which I'd taken to growing out – and I really didn't like the idea of getting grass stains on my knees either. But, here I was, kneeling beside Narcissa as she planted the new flowers for her garden and I had to admit that I had severely overestimated just how messy this could have possibly been. It was actually rather fun to watch as her garden came together.

"Make sure you don't leave too much space between the flowers," Mrs Malfoy said as she rose to her feet. I turned curiously towards her and she gave me a reassuring smile. "I need to head inside and get some more flowers from the greenhouse."

"Come back soon," I said, mildly pleading a little. "I don't want to mess this up."

"I will," she assured me as I turned back to my planting.

Digging a little hole in the mud, I carefully grasped the next flower with gentle hands and prepared to settle it into its place. It was one flower so really, why was I freaking out about it so much? Brushing some mud from one of the flower petals, I hesitated to put it in when I felt a shoulder brush against my own. Glancing to my side, I expected to find Narcissa settled back beside me only for my eyes to widen slightly in surprise as I found myself looking at Draco's side profile. He didn't seem to pay any attention to me and I wondered just what he was doing here when he turned towards me.

"Are you going to plant it or what?" he asked, turning towards me and arching an eyebrow.

"Right," I said quietly, looking back to the hole I had already dug and carefully set the flower inside.

Glancing hesitantly towards Draco, I watched as he silently used his hand – forsaking the trowel that was beside him – he covered the hole with some mud and patted it down. I watched him incredulously, eyebrows shooting towards my hairline as I continued to watch him pat the mud down.

Was he really the same Draco Malfoy that I had grown up with? The clean freak? The one that refused to wear clothes that had fallen off the hanger and fallen on the floor. He used to complain about the _common room_ and how dusty it used to get whilst he was at Hogwarts. So why on earth was he _kneeling_ beside me on _grass,_ and using his _hands_ to put the mud down around the flowers?

But I knew Draco – and because I knew him – I knew better than to make a comment on just how out of character he was behaving. I'd likely just get a cutting remark from him and maybe that would be a good thing? I mean, that would be him becoming more and more like how he usually was?

Draco suddenly rising to his feet had me snapping out of my thoughts to watch as he straightened out to his full height. Brushing his hands together, Draco frowned at the dirt on his hands and that small gesture reassured me a little. He wasn't being a neat freak, but at least he showed _some_ distaste for the dirt. Either way, it was enough to stop me from getting an aneurysm.

Scratch that –

Draco brushed his hands against his trousers and I let out an incredulous breath. What the hell was going with him –

Without another word, Draco turned to walk away from me to head back into the house. I tried to keep quiet, to stop myself from calling out to him. When it became obvious that he wasn't going to make some comment on the way he was behaving so weirdly, I gave up.

"Draco," I called out, caving instantly. The sound of my voice had him stilling instantly. Glancing back over his shoulder at me, he waited patiently for me to say something and I was tempted to see how long I could go without him snapping at me to hurry up. But he didn't. The silence lengthened, and he had no reaction and I bit my bottom lip hesitantly. "Are you – are you ok?"

"I'm fine," he assured me instantly like he had grown used to having to tell people that. But he really wasn't fine, I knew that. He'd never needed to tell me that.

"Something is _really_ wrong," I insisted when he held my eyes for a long moment.

"I don't know what you're talking about," he denied, turning away from me to head back into the house. Merlin, I needed to do something to help him. And fast, at that.

* * *

Since I had arrived at the Manor, I couldn't help but be thrown by just how withdrawn Draco had become. He rarely sought out the my company, or his mother's for that matter and instead chose to spend his days alone in his room or in one of the numerous rooms in the Manor. The behaviour was so out of character for the Draco I knew, that it took some time to get used to the fact that he no longer saw the need to make himself the centre of attention.

But slowly enough, in the few days that I'd been here, I'd come to terms with the way he'd changed and because of that maybe he wouldn't return to the way he had been before the war. But was that really such a bad thing? If Draco returned to the way he had been before, that meant that he wouldn't have learnt anything from it, from the wrong decisions he'd made. So maybe I couldn't help him find his way back to the person he used to be, but I could help him heal. If he'd let me that was.

It was obvious that he'd been going out of his way to avoid me since I'd arrived. Hell, our awkward encounter in the gardens had been the first time I'd seen him since. The drama queen didn't even join us for our meals which was why it was so startling to see him walking down the stairs to join us for breakfast.

I knew better than to say anything about him joining Narcissa and me for breakfast and instead continued the conversation I was having with the Malfoy matriarch, even as her son settled into the seat beside me. Except I simply couldn't ignore him, not when I realised that he was silently pouring a cup of tea, but it wasn't for himself. No, he didn't take his tea sweet – and neither did his mother for that matter. Watching him from the corner of my eye, I didn't even try to hide how _odd_ I was finding him.

"What?" he asked quietly, setting the cup in front of me. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

Shifting in my chair towards him, I narrowed my eyes at him as I tried to figure him out. "You're being really strange; you weren't exactly like this when we were small Draco."

"Well we were small then," he said dryly, eyes shooting to the fireplace where two tall men stepped out and made an immediate beeline for the breakfast table. From the way Narcissa rolled her eyes, I knew it was a daily occurrence and one snap of her fingers had two more plates appearing at the table. The older witch herself rose to her feet and left the room with a remark of leaving the young people to talk amongst themselves.

I watched the approaching men with curious eyes, raising the tea to my lips. The years had been good to them – evidently. I almost didn't recognise them but because of their confident walk, the one that only spoiled pureblood sons seemed to possess, I instantly knew who they were. Sure, they had broadened out, shooting up an entire foot or so since I'd seen them, but I could tell who they were. Merlin, the smirk on Zabini's face was a dead tell and wherever Zabini went – sure enough, Theo Nott followed shortly behind. It seemed that time had only strengthened their friendship.

What else could you expect from three boys who'd found themselves on the wrong side of the war? In troubling times, you had to stick to those you trusted and even Salazar himself knew that these boys trusted one another. With their lives, from what I'd heard of the war.

The former Slytherins took their places at the table, greeting Narcissa as she walked out of the room before their eyes faltered on me, not seeming to recognise me. I couldn't help but scoff slightly, not surprised as I met Zabini's eyes head on. Arching an eyebrow, I looked away from him to help myself to a slice of toast.

"And who are you?" Zabini asked, mild flirtation in his voice as he settled down across from me. The simple question made Draco chuckle slightly beneath his breath.

"Me?" I questioned, watching him nod. "I'm the girl you locked in the drawing room on her eleventh birthday."

"Ah," Zabini said, drawing away to settle further back in his chair. "Long time no see Donovan."

"Likewise, Zabini," I said coolly, watching as the dark haired Slytherin reached out for a scone.

"From what I remember, you burst into tears, didn't you?" I scowled at the reminder, narrowing my eyes when Zabini looked up from where he was cutting his scone through the middle, smirking at me from over his butter knife. "You only stopped crying when Draco saved you. Or am I not remembering things correctly?"

"How is it that you haven't changed a bit?"

"You don't change perfection, sweetheart."

I scoffed at the arrogant claim, eyes flickering to the man seated beside Zabini – he always had been the quiet one, and it seemed like somethings never did change.

"From what _I_ remember Theo was always the closest to perfection," I retorted, paying no heed to the way Draco bristled in his seat at my comment. Theo, for his part, didn't say a thing and only let a small arrogant smile flicker at the corner of his mouth for a fraction of a second, eyes flitting toward Draco before he straightened in his seat.

"Nerdy had always been your type," Zabini scoffed, but the words weren't aimed at me. No, they were meant to be a barbed remark for the silent man beside me. Merlin, I thought as I rolled my eyes, I never did understand the friendship Draco and Zabini shared.

"I think you'll find that the word is intelligent, something you're clearly _not_." Pushing my chair away from the table, I looked briefly towards Draco before fixing my eyes back to Zabini. "You remembered it wrong anyway Zabini; Theo was the one that came to save me, not Draco."

"Not that the bastard sitting beside you was willing to correct you."

"Funny that," I said dryly, eyeing Draco as he picked at his food.

* * *

My plans to go shopping with Narcissa had been railroaded by the sudden migraine she had woken up with. She confined herself to her room, claiming that she just needed to sleep the headache off and that we'd have to reschedule – not that I minded. I'd just found myself with an entire day to myself with nothing that I really needed to do. With no real plans, I headed towards the library and stepped into the room for the first time in a long time.

Merlin, I'd lost track of the number of days when Draco and I would hurry to the library the moment breakfast was finished, just because we knew that the adults would never come in here. We'd learnt quite quickly that heading outside was a sure-fire way of being assigned someone to watch over the pair of us, but if we were inside – _safe_ – then we were left to do as we pleased. We got up to a lot of mischief when left alone.

Just standing before the shelf in front of me, I could see multiple books that had been subjected to Draco and my mischief. Before the boys – Zabini and Theo – would eventually arrive to join me at the Manor, Draco and I were joined at the hip. We'd spend every moment together and more often than not, we'd be found in some corner of the library with a book open in our laps. A book which Draco always scribbled his initials into the corner of – _because they were his anyway._

Spoilt brat.

Somewhere along the way, he had taken to adding my initials right alongside his and I just _knew_ he'd only done that, so he wouldn't be the only one to get in trouble. What in Merlin's name had I done to get into trouble with him, I didn't know. If anything, I tried to stop him. Not that he seemed to care.

Pulling a random book from the shelf, I settled down onto one of the sofas at the end of the room. I tried to lose myself in the book, but it proved pointless when just minutes later Draco walked into the room and over to one of the bookshelves. He didn't bother perusing the shelves, snagging the first book that his eyes settled on before settling down on the sofa across from me. I couldn't help but watch him for a moment; was this what he spent his days doing? Seeking out some peace and quiet in his family's library?

Shaking my head slightly, I turned my focus back to the open book in my lap. Even then, it didn't remain there for long. My eyes were inevitably drawn back to the man sitting across from me. He was reading his book, clearly able to concentrate whilst I hadn't been able to say the same. But every so often, he would absentmindedly scratch at his arm from over his jumper sleeve.

I narrowed my eyes at the motion; he'd been doing it repeatedly and I knew exactly what he was doing. It was as if he trying to get at the mark under the sleeve to permanently scratch it off his skin. Obviously, he was failing at it, and he'd only managed to mar the skin surrounding it leaving it red and sensitive, even bleeding a little.

Furrowing my eyebrows, I reached into my pocket for my wand to send a silent stinging hex his way. It hit his hand, making him draw it sharply away from his arm. Wildly raising his eyes to mine, Draco arched an eyebrow with a thinly veiled glare.

"What was that for?"

"Don't do that again," I warned him, raising my eyes to his. "Stop it or you'll do some serious damage."

Vague surprise flickered through his features before he nodded and turned silently back his book. Satisfied, I settled back comfortably to finally begin to read to occupy some of my day. But sure enough, he was back at it not even minutes later and I sighed, closing my book. He didn't even seem to realise that he was doing it.

"Draco," I called out sharply, and only then did he remove his hand. With a sigh, I rose to my feet and crossed the space between us to sit beside him, muttering under my breath as I did so, "Honestly, why don't you ever listen to me?"

"I've never listened to you," he reminded me, watching a little hesitantly as I settled comfortably beside him. Turning towards him with a frown, I snagged his left arm and wrapped it around my waist. The sudden colour rushing up his pale neck had me scoffing slightly, "Don't get embarrassed Draco really, it's to stop you from scratching it again. You can't scratch it if you can't reach it. Now get back to your reading."

Merlin, I was glad that I'd worn my hair down today. At least he couldn't see how red _my_ ears were.

It was shocking just how _aware_ I was of Draco's presence beside me, of the length of his thigh pressing against mine, of the arm wrapped around my waist – even though I had been the one to place it there. But knowing that he was there and could easily see how distracted he made me – and he'd _love_ that – had me opening the book I'd carelessly set beside me to read it again. Not that I could focus much on the words written on the page in front of me.

At some point or another, Draco was the one to give up reading his book and tossed it aside. Shifting towards me, he leaned in close to me so he could read over my shoulder. God, why was he doing that now? How was I supposed to hide a blush when it was creeping towards my face? Not that he seemed to realise that, given that he just put his chin on my shoulder without a word.

Instead, he made a sound in the back of his throat. "You've been reading this same page for ages."

"Get your own book," I shot back, nudging him away from me.

"Your one's more interesting," he protested, leaning around me to turn the page for me, "Now shut up woman, I'm trying to read here."

"You're such a twat."

"You still love me anyway," he said absentmindedly enough to not notice that I hadn't denied it.

* * *

Following on from the rather flustering episode with Draco in the library, I found myself facing a Draco who had more mood swings than I did during my pre-teen years. One moment he was caring for me in a way he had never done before – that alone was bloody strange – and the next he was back to being moody and gloomy. Really, I was surprised that he didn't have whiplash from all of his sudden changes in mood. Although I guess a small improvement was that he'd at least started to join his mother and me for our meals.

But, as I had the habit of doing, I made a rash decision without thinking it through. One moment I had been lying in bed, trying to convince myself that it was time to get up for the day and the next I was suddenly thinking about how _worried_ I was about Draco. He was behaving strangely, he had been since my arrival and if anything, my presence had seemed to make him worse. Of course, he wasn't quite as teenage angst as he had been, but now he was being just genuinely weird.

I'd decided that it was better to get things out in the open and that errant thought had me springing out of the bed. Freshening up slightly, I hastily wrapped my dressing gown over the top of my pyjamas before heading out of the room and in the direction of Draco's bedroom. Before I realised it, I was standing in front of his closed room door having just knocked on it.

There was silence on the other side and I bit my bottom lip hesitantly. Maybe he was still asleep and what if I woke him up by coming here suddenly? Perhaps it would be better for me to just do all of this later? Merlin knew that whatever had been driving my sudden decision, fled out of me in a heartbeat.

Just as I turned to leave, the door to his room opened slightly, only enough for him to peek his face out. Draco, through half squinted blurry eyes, stared back at me before blinking rapidly and bringing a hand up to rub at his eyes as if not believing what he was seeing. Lowering his hand back to his side and still seeing me, his eyes widened slightly.

"What are you doing here?" he asked, voice still thick with sleep.

"We need to talk," I said feigning composure as I pushed past him and into the room.

He yawned slowly, closing the door behind him and watching as I marched straight towards his closet. Throwing it open, I grabbed the first shirt I saw and threw it towards him. He caught it quickly and without a word, pulled it over his head.

"Are you here to dress me or something?" he asked, not bothering to fix his hair which was lying flat against his forehead from his sleep. Crossing the room to settle down on his bed, he asked dryly, "Want me to take my trousers off too?"

"Oh, you'd like that, wouldn't you," I grumbled, beginning to pace before him.

"I would," he agreed without any force, leaning back on his palms to watch as I continued to pace back and forth. "So, are you going to tell me the reason you've suddenly appeared in the room, or am I going to have to guess?"

Finally stopping in front of him, I narrowed my eyes at his curious stare. "Listen Draco, I don't know if you've realised this, but you've been really weird lately."

"Have I really?" he said snarkily and I pursed my lips in irritation. It must have still been too early for him because it took one glance at my annoyed face to have him sitting up and rubbing a hand across his face as he said a tired, "Sorry."

"I just want to know _why_ you're being so odd," I explained, looking at him for an answer. His eyes tightened slightly at that, but he did nothing more than shrug as if that was an answer. I sighed, barely restraining the urge to throw my hands up in annoyance. "You're not like this Draco; you're bratty and arrogant and you _certainly_ don't pay attention to me like this. You're supposed to get annoyed when I encroach in your space, to get upset when I don't do what you want me to. You just – you don't look out for me like this."

"I'm not the same person," he admitted quietly.

"Of course, you're not – you wouldn't be human if you were the same person as before," I explained quietly, coming to sit beside him. Peering gently up into his face, I squeezed his thigh. "It's only natural that you changed as a result of what you went through but pushing everyone away – pushing your _mother_ away, that's not the right thing to do."

"Then what is the right thing to do?" he asked hesitantly, meeting my eyes for a long moment.

"Talk to your mother, put down this guilt you're carrying around with you or just – just talk to me like you did when we were kids."

"I don't think I can do that," he said, shaking his head slightly. "I'm not the only one that's changed."

"Puberty does that to you," I quipped, bringing a small smile to his face.

"Sure, you look different, but things have changed." He thought for a long moment like he was struggling to think of some way of telling me what he wanted to say. "I didn't feel this way about you either."

"Merlin's beard," I murmured quietly, instantly realising what he meant and shuffling slightly away from him only to reach the end of the mattress and almost fall off. He reached out to steady me with a hand and I cleared my throat. "You're not joking?"

"This isn't something I'd joke about."

"Right, well," I cleared my throat again and shot to my feet. "I'm going to go back now, and just – I'll see you at breakfast, I guess?"

Without giving him a chance to answer me, I hurried out of his room with quick steps and tried to keep my back to him for as long as possible. Inevitably I couldn't help but shoot a small glance back at him only to find him outright grinning at how flustered I clearly was. Merlin, he'd always liked flustering me.

* * *

I'd have liked to believe myself to be the sort of person that could remain aloof and outwardly appear unaffected by things that managed to fluster me. Usually, I was that sort of person, the type of person that could keep their emotions to themselves and maintain façade of composure but for some reason, that was never the case when I found myself around Draco. No, if anything he said or did manage to fluster me then it was obvious. When it came to Draco, I had no such poker face. That was the very reason why the idea of eating breakfast with him following on from our conversation was so horrifying.

A small part of me had hoped that he wouldn't come downstairs to join his mother and me for breakfast, but I knew better than to test my luck. I'd quickly learned that anything I didn't want to happen, tended to happen and there was absolutely nothing I could do to change that. So, just to be safe, I decided to take breakfast in my room that day because I would only let Draco win _once_. Not joining Narcissa for breakfast for two days in a row would be as good as conceding defeat to him and that was something I refused to do.

Giving myself a mini pep talk, I walked down the stairs and joined the two Malfoys for breakfast. On one side, I had a smirking Draco who only grew more sure of himself when I outwardly scowled at him. Why, in Merlin's name, did that horrendous smirk have to be the first thing to come back to him? As if simply sitting beside Draco wasn't enough, on my other side sat Narcissa who was watching the pair of us as if she knew something had happened. Although, I wouldn't be surprised if she _did_ know that something had happened. She'd always had that uncanny ability to look right through the pair of us.

Shifting slightly in my seat so that I was facing more towards Narcissa, I stiffened slightly when I felt Draco nudge his shoe against my own. Throwing him a look, I moved my feet away from his without trying to draw any of his attention to it. It didn't work very well judging by the way he was suddenly trying not to laugh.

Helping myself to a handful of grapes, I looked curiously towards Draco when he cleared his throat to draw attention to himself. Narcissa set her teacup aside, looking towards her son curiously.

"Is there something you want to say Draco?" she asked.

"I'm just wondering whether the pair of you had any plans today," he started curiously and although he was speaking to his mother, the way he kept his eyes on mine clearly told us just who he was talking to. "There was something I wanted to show you."

"I have plans with your mother," I said instantly, looking at the older woman for support, "We were going to head out of the Manor for a while."

"Well we can take a rain check," Narcissa assured her son with a smile, "The pair of you have fun."

"We will," Draco assured his mother and I struggled not to narrow my eyes at both of the Malfoys. It was really unfair that I was outnumbered by them.

Then again, I could just go back to avoiding Draco, regardless of what he wanted to show me. What was he going to do? Try and force me to pay attention to him? The Manor had a ridiculous number of rooms that I could use to hide from him and he'd certainly have a tough time trying to find me if I put my mind to it.

And that was what I did; I avoided Draco by listening out for wherever he was in the Manor. The house-elves proved to be extremely helpful in the endeavour but once I'd grown tired of having to flit from room to room at a moment's notice, I eventually retired to my room. No matter how much Draco wanted to speak to me about something, he wouldn't exactly barge into my bathroom, now would he? That was exactly why I saw nothing wrong with taking a long soak in the bath which left my entire body relaxed and I was so tempted to just fall asleep again and take a nap. It wasn't like I had anything I needed to do, anyway.

By the time I came out of the bath after changing into a fresh set of pyjamas, I started to towel dry my hair. Walking out of the bathroom, I eyed the bed in the centre of the room and wanted nothing more than to just get back to sleep. But, the six foot something man seated in the middle of the bed wouldn't allow that.

"Really?" I asked with a sigh, tossing the damp towel towards him and watched, satisfied as it landed on his lap. Draco scowled down at the towel before looking towards me, clearly unimpressed. "Could this not have waited? How long were you just hanging around here?"

"Well don't avoid me next time," he said with a scoff, moving off the bed to rise to his feet. He tossed the towel behind him with a disdainful look. God, he really was a bloody clean freak.

"I'm not sure if I like that you're becoming more and more like your usual self," I said truthfully with a roll of my eyes.

"Of course, you do," he said, completely sure of himself. "Come on then."

"Where are we going exactly?" I crossed my arms, I wasn't going anywhere with him. "Do you not see that I'm in my pyjamas? I don't have any intention of leaving this Manor with you."

"Then it's a good thing we're not leaving the Manor, isn't it?" He held out his hand for mine and I waited for a single's moment hesitation. It was enough to have him speaking up again, "Go on."

"Alright, fine."

Slipping my hand into his, I let Draco pull me out of the room without another word. Silently he escorted me through the Manor and in the direction of the gardens, ducking into one of the lesser used corridors. He didn't need to tell me where we were going. From the path he was taking, I knew exactly where we were headed, and I couldn't help it when my steps slowed slightly, my reluctance obvious.

"It's alright," Draco assured me without sending a glance towards me. "I'm not that little boy anymore. I won't leave you alone in here again."

"You'd better mean that Draco," I warned quietly, letting him walk me into the room that I'd found myself locked in many years ago because of a stupid boyish prank.

They, of course, hadn't thought that I'd react as badly as I had done, bursting into tears the moment I'd realised that the door was locked because of an old charm placed on the Malfoy house walls. Merlin, I remembered the way my breath stuttered in my chest, struggling to catch my breath because I couldn't stop remembering when I'd managed to lock myself in one of the rooms at home and it took hours until the house-elves realised that I was missing, that I was locked away. Really, they couldn't have been expected to know that I had such an aversion to being locked in a room with no way out. Merlin, I'd avoided going into this room at every possible cost since.

But sure enough, here I was with Draco taking me by the shoulders to lead me into the room. Keeping his hold on me, Draco steered me over towards one of the armchairs in the room. Squeezing my shoulders, he released his hold on me and came to kneel in front of me.

"What are you doing?" I asked quietly, watching as he reached out to take my hands in his.

"I have something to give you," he explained, rising to his feet and heading towards the apothecary table at the other side of the room.

I watched him curiously, shifting slightly in my seat to get a better look at what he was doing. Draco leaned down slightly to open the cupboard and my eyebrows rose … gift-wrapped boxes? Quite a few of them at that.

"What –"

He turned towards me before I could finish voicing my question. "I missed 4 of your birthdays."

"That looks a _lot_ more than 4 birthdays worth of presents," I said furrowed eyebrows, rising to my feet to try to join him at his side. Looking into the open cupboard, I frowned; Merlin, what the hell was all of this?

"When have I ever given you _one_ present?" He rolled his eyes, nudging me with his shoulder. "You're speaking like you're forgetting that I'm part of the reason you were such a spoiled brat."

"Like you're one to talk," I grumbled under my breath, eyeing him closely for a minute. "I didn't get you anything."

"I'm sure I'll think of some way for you to make it up to me," he assured me, crossing his legs underneath him and watching me in a way that made my skin prickle. I needed to do something before the colour rushed to my face; the idiot would never let me live it down.

"You can have one of these," I suggested, grabbing one of the boxes and holding it out towards him.

Draco scoffed, leaning towards me to frame my face in his hands. "Actually … I was thinking something more like this."

And then he leaned forward to kiss me, the presents long forgotten as I turned into him.


	2. Epilogue: 14 Years Ago

_14 YEARS AGO_

The important thing was to be calm, to take deep soothing breaths because surely, _surely_ , I wouldn't be in this stupid drawing room for much longer? Someone would realise that I had gone missing, someone would come to find me and get me out of here. It was just a matter of time before I was out of this room.

Oh, who was I kidding? If Draco had put me in here on purpose – which he no doubt had as his version of some sick joke – then there was no way I was getting out of here until he _let_ me out. It was the realisation that I was actually trapped in here that made my palms begin to sweat, heart pumping suddenly at double rate. Good Merlin, he should have known I couldn't stand these sorts of jokes, the ones that had me stuck somewhere I couldn't get out of so why, why –

I took in a shuddering breath, trying to calm myself even as the room seemed to grow smaller and smaller, the walls coming in towards me and forcing my breath to leave me as quivering pants. Merlin, I didn't want to cry but I could feel the tears brimming in my eyes no matter how determined I was to blink them away. I was _not_ going to cry over something like this – I was eleven! Not some baby who cried over everything.

I was too old to be crying so why on earth did I find myself doing nothing more than falling to the floor with my knees to my chest. Head bowed slightly, I sniffled as I silently cursed the restricted age on magic. The only reason I was unable to leave this room was because of the magic embedded into the very walls of the Manor and that was the problem with ancestral magic; Draco's blood alone meant that he could control when this door opened and when it closed.

It just wasn't fair! All I'd wanted to do was to play with the boys, but did that mean that they could just –

The door unlocked with a clear sound and I found myself blubbering then like I really was a baby. It wasn't because I was scared, because I wasn't scared anymore – all I needed to do was walk through those doors and I would be out of this godforsaken room. But I suddenly couldn't stop myself from crying because the single sound had filled me with such _relief_ that it was enough to force away the uncomfortable pressure that had settled on my chest.

Sniffling slightly, I rose to my feet and looked to the open doorway just to see through tear filled eyes that there was a boy standing in the doorway, looking more than a little thrown by the state he'd found me in. Bloody idiot; what did he expect? That him locking me in here wouldn't upset me? But then again, I wouldn't be surprised if that really _was_ what he'd thought; Draco had always been an idiot.

Not that it mattered now; he'd come back. That was all that matter. Crossing the room with quick steps, I threw my arms around him and hugged him close, so completely thankful that I didn't have to spend a minute longer in that room.

"Draco," the boy I was hugging called out, making me stiffen slightly. I drew back far enough to realise that I was hugging the Nott boy – the only one out of the three of them who had never actively tormented me – and that was enough to have me hugging him again.

Theodore remained tense, patting my back a little awkwardly as I sniffled to stop the last of my tears from falling. He looked over his shoulder towards Draco who was stood beside Zabini and I let myself do the same, meeting his narrowed grey eyes head on and scowling at him. Draco for his part looked mad in that way boys did whenever something hadn't gone the way he wanted it to. He wasn't mad at me, that was a completely different expression on his face, but I couldn't bring myself to care about who or what had made him mad.

Instead, I just turned my attention away from him. Drawing back from Theodore, I met his waiting eyes and somehow managed to find the stability to send him a watery smile.

"Thanks for getting me out," I said quietly, knowing it would annoy Draco.

And sure enough, the fair-haired boy was stalking towards me to take my hand in his. Yanking me away from Theodore, Draco glared at the other boy as if he wasn't one of his dearest friends. When he shifted his glare to me, I did nothing more than pull my hand away from him.

"He's not the one that let you out! He can't let you out anyway – it was my blood magic that –"

"I don't care," I said quietly, coldly and it agitated Draco so much that I was surprised he didn't actually stomp his foot in annoyance.

"You were actually crying," he stated harshly, and I had long since learnt that he behaved like this whenever I reacted in a way he couldn't understand, in a way he hadn't thought I would. "What are you? A baby?"

"Shut up!" I spat, rubbing my hands harshly across my cheeks to remove the final traces of the tears from my face. Stomping on his foot, I scowled at him when he cried out in pain, "I hate you!"

Brushing past him without so much as another glance his way, I walked away from the three silent Slytherins with my head held high. I wasn't a baby anymore, they were just stupid, mean boys who I was _never_ going to play with again. In fact, I'd go to mum now and tell her that we needed to go home. Yes, that's what I'd do.

Just as I turned the corner, I heard Zabini pipe up dryly, "I _told_ you she'd be mad, Draco."

Mad was an understatement. Dismissing the thought with a quick shake of my head, I walked quickly through the Manor until I found the room where all our parents were talking and from the way they were rising to their feet, I had appeared just in time. Father was already standing there with my coat in his hands and he frowned, clearly noticing my red eyes.

"I think there's dust somewhere," I lied as I got to his side. "My hay fever is acting up."

"Let's get you home then," Father said as he held my coat open for me to put my arms in the sleeves.

For a moment I wondered whether I'd actually manage to leave this Manor without running into those horrendous boys again, but Draco Malfoy had an atrocious habit of doing what you didn't want him to do. Mother and father, a little concerned about my 'hay fever' were ushering me quickly towards the fireplace when the Malfoy heir sprung out of nowhere, asking my father for a minute to say goodbye. With a good-natured laugh, father left my side and it took all my effort not to stomp off after him.

"Don't," Draco said quickly, reaching out to take my hand like he knew what I was thinking. "I need to talk to you."

"I don't want to hear it!"

"Would you listen to me?"

"No."

"You're so –"

"I'm not listening to you –"

"– stubborn –"

"– that's rich coming from you!"

"I'm sorry!" His sudden exclamation had the words dying on the tip of my tongue. I was sure my face was quite the sight; it felt like my eyes were bugging out of my head. I had never thought I'd hear him say those words. Merlin, I didn't think he knew what those words meant! "What? Nothing else to say."

I shook my head, murmuring a quiet, "No."

He sighed. "So, you forgive me then?"

"I guess," I shrugged, pulling myself away from him when I heard my mother call for me. "I need to go."

"But you'll come back next week? Right?" he asked suddenly, seeming more insistent. "I'll see you again before you have to travel to France?"

"I – do you want to?"

"Yes," he said resolute and I nodded slowly, not used to _this_ Draco – the Draco who apparently knew what it was like to apologise.

"I'll talk to my parents."

* * *

 _17 YEARS LATER_

It had been months since I had managed to sleep so well, let alone managing to dream in peace without waking up to the shrill sounds of Scorpius's crying ringing through our home. Although, was it really dreaming if it was of a memory? Whatever it was, it had brought me some much-needed rest.

With a yawn, I turned slightly towards Draco to shake him awake, so he didn't spend the entire day asleep. But, as I rolled to face him, I found out exactly why I hadn't woken up through the night. There, sleeping soundly curled up on his father's chest was our 9-month-old son. Clearly, Draco had tended to Scorpius at some point in the night, without seeing to wake me up and I smiled a little at the thought of it. Reaching out to brush a thumb across the swell of Scorpius' cheek, I let my smile widen when he opened his eyes to show me that beautiful grey colour that had made me fall for his father in the first place. Merlin, he really was his father's son.

"What are you thinking about?" the question was slow, barely more than a whisper and spoken in a voice thick with sleep.

Scorpius shifted on his father's chest until he rolled off of him and crawled towards me. As my son curled up to my chest, I looked towards my husband with a smile, "Just that he takes after you. Practically a carbon copy, according to your mother."

"What can I say?" Draco began with a yawn, reaching out to run his hand through my hair. "Malfoy genes are strong."

"Let's hope he doesn't become as spoilt as you were."

"As if _you_ can talk." He scoffed with a laugh, grinning sleepily at Scorpius when he began to 'speak' to his father. "You were just as spoilt as I was."

"You were _much_ worse!"

"As if!"

"Do you want me to ask your mother? She'll prove you wrong in a heartbeat."

"Let's just be real here," Draco said shifted to face me. "Even if we try not to spoil Scorpius –"

"Which we'll fail at."

"Without a doubt," he agreed instantly with a roll of his eyes. "But our parents will spoil him much more than we ever could."

"We'll have to curb his ego," I murmured quietly, looking down at Scorpius when he started to squish my cheeks together. Through squished cheeks, I looked towards Draco, "We can't have him getting the Malfoy ego from you too. Goodness knows how I'd deal with two of you around the house."

"Malfoy ego," he started incredulously, only to falter when I arched an eyebrow. "You've got a point there."

"Of course I have."


End file.
